Watching
by InsertEpicPenNameHere
Summary: Their paths entwined due to the mutual desire to watch over someone, the same someone. ItaSaku


He watched her. Every day he watched her. He watched watch his younger brother train. She never knew he watched her, never knew he observed her every movement however infinitesimal and his brother was ignorant of the fact that there were two people who were always monitoring him albeit for different reasons.

The older boy took meticulous measures to conceal himself at all times. If his little brother, Sasuke, became aware of his presence, he would immediately demand training. If the Uchiha elders found out that the heir had free time in which he trained his brother, they'd steal away those few precious moments of respite as well; take away his small retreat from the endless expectations piled upon him. That was why he tried to stay away from home, never telling anyone where he disappeared to, as long as possible whilst in Konoha, he didn't want anyone to catch the gist of spared time he revelled in.

Just wistfully seeing a scene of something near normality, so alien to his world, was enough. The surreal nature of the ordinary, so enchanting to observe, was enough. Enough to make him somewhat content that at least there were people lived a much better life than he did. It was that small fact that brought him relief. He could, with effort, keep his brother in that better world.

It had never been his intention to watch the girl but his desire to keep an eye on his brother was as strong as a desire could be for someone brought up strictly restrained from feeling anything but pride for the clan.

That meant seeing her do the same thing as him although much less discreet (but discreet enough for Sasuke not to notice).

The girl had a clump of candy pink hair on her small head; normally it was in messy yet cute disarray but occasionally tied back neatly with a red ribbon that she always touched fondly. At times she was lively, giggling softly as she watched the young boy at other times she seemed to be holding back tears. But she was always there.

She had wide sea foam eyes always sparkling with some sort of emotion. He liked her eyes, he thought. They were beautiful, so much more expressive than his hardened orbs, exposed to the ruthlessness of the world.

Her life was full of vibrant colour whilst his was done in monochrome. His lifestyle never deviated from a carefully constructed routine that he couldn't break for fear of severe repercussions. Yet even so, just by seeing her, a little colour – as if she shared her warm glowing hue with the world – was unintentionally splashed onto the dull canvas of his existence.

He liked her best when she had just returned from training herself. Her face would be flushed, her eyes brightened and she would carry with her an aura of satisfaction that one gets after hard work. She would wear an energised, determined look on her face, one that he had lost long ago.

Her stance would be more eased, her attention not solely on Sasuke anymore, although she watched as ardently as she could regardless of her fatigue, and once in a while she drifted off to a state of half consciousness, a peaceful expression forming itself on her features.

Although emotions were almost completely foreign territory to him now, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed seeing her facial expressions shift rapidly, her face an open book. Never concealing anything for there was nothing to hide for her. She was simple. Uncomplicated. Free from ulterior motive. He was drawn to the complete absence of guile the most.

He was captivated by the fact that she was free. Free. It was something he could never be. The affliction of being born in the Uchiha clan; it was the fact that a human was born in chains. You were not an individual, you were a tool; a tool to be used until you wore out. From the moment he entered the world his destiny had already been carved out. He was being manipulated like a puppet and he knew it.

Perhaps that explained his absurd attraction to the young girl. She represented freedom, all he craved and all he couldn't have.

She seemed down today. Today she wasn't smiling softly every time Sasuke hit the target correctly and the light that was usually in her eyes had disappeared completely. Her shoulders were slumped, her posture not tensed with enthusiasm as she watched Sasuke from a slightly lower branch of the very same tree he was sitting on. He wondered what had happened.

Every time she came exceptionally joyful or exceptionally despondent his curiosity was sparked. Intrigue filled every vein in his body. He wanted to know so much more about her life, more than the glimpses he saw of her with her mother at the market on occasion. He wanted to know what she did, what she aspired to be, her likes and her dislikes.

He glanced at the sky. It was almost time now. Every day when it neared dusk she jumped down the tree staggering a little and placed a bento near the exit of the training ground then promptly left. And everyday Sasuke walked past without sparing a glance.

Sometimes Itachi felt like chastising his brother for blatant ungratefulness. The food was a munificent offering, and he knew Sasuke often forgot his own. The girl had no real need to take the time out to prepare a meal for him yet she still did it every single day. He had taken to eating the bento instead of Sasuke. For a five year old girl's effort, though probably with some help from her mother, it tasted rather delicious. Sasuke didn't know what he was missing. She came back for the box every morning to find it fully cleaned and no item remaining. Whenever he had a free morning he would often go there just to see her face glowing with happiness.

True to his prediction a few minutes later, the pink haired girl jumped off the tree, struggling to maintain her balance, and placed the bento on the ground. Her head hanging down in unhappiness, she took her leave, trudging miserably.

-0-

Sakura was watching the boy in awe, just like she did every single day. She didn't know the boy's name, although he was somewhat of a heartthrob in the park which he seldom visited from what she'd discerned. He looked around her age. Spiky raven hair and a resolute face was what defined him for her.

Yet the grace with which he threw kunai and shuriken… it was beautiful. Far too mature for such a young boy. The basics he had mastered and was now moving on to throwing multiple weapons, much to her amazement. She wished she had as much skill as he did; she had never hit perfectly with her practice sets.

He leapt up into the air with an almost feminine elegance, his eyes closed in concentration, attempting to execute a technique that even most genin had difficulty with. After he had thrown the weaponry, he flipped back in the air so he landed on his feet gracefully, breathing heavily as his eyes searched the training ground to see where they had all landed. To his dismay, despite all his effort not a single one had landed anywhere near the targets. Wearily, he started moving to pick the weapons up, intent on another try.

Frowning in concern, she shook her head. He overexerted himself. Even she could see that doing whatever it was he did had took a lot out of him.

If she was tough and strong like him, maybe those girls wouldn't bully her so. It wouldn't matter that she was ugly or had a big forehead. They would have to respect her! No more would they be able to get away with tormenting her on a daily basis.

But she was weak. Not knowledgeable, not confident nor pretty.

She buried her face in her hands, hot tears prickling in her green eyes. No, she wouldn't cry, she wouldn't cry, she _wouldn't_ cry.

Desperately she blinked away the tears and brought her attention back to the boy focusing even more intently than before.

Today she was slumped against the tree bark, slouching a little in depression. The boy was serving more as a distraction from her problems rather than anything else. If she concentrated hard enough on him she could block out all her negative thoughts about herself.

She wondered whether he would agree to train her if she requested politely enough. He probably wouldn't but oh how she wished…

Everyday she tried to work up the courage to ask him but it never came.

Tomorrow, she decided, she would ask him tomorrow.

Gazing up at the sky she realised it was nearing nightfall. Not wanting her mother to get worried, she slid off the branch, landing on the ground with some measure of trouble (oh, if only she was as graceful as the boy).

Just as she did on any other day, she placed the bento on the ground and ran off quickly.

It was a routine that had began many months ago.

When she had first started watching - while she sobbed in a tree, down below he was training – it hadn't taken her long to notice that the pale skinned boy didn't seem to eat after his strenuous training.

So she began making food for him, believing that he needed it as her kaa-san had said it was unhealthy not to eat.

She didn't even know if he ate it or not; all she knew was that every morning she found it empty and cleaned.

One day, probably a month into her observing, a new figure she had never seen before arrived. The boy had fallen down. At that point she considered calling for help, perhaps ruining her secret haven bringing in an outsider, but then his aniki came (well at least he looked like the boy's aniki) – seemingly appearing out of nowhere, His aniki was kind and gentle, calmly bandaging the injured ankle and carrying the younger boy on his back.

She wondered whether the older boy noticed her presence or not.

He had long ebony locks, lighter than his brother's, tied back in a loose ponytail. Charcoal brown eyes, unlike the midnight blue of the younger sibling, examined the wound, concerned. To her, he was so _warm_.

Often she found herself yearning to see the boy again. Today was one such day. Would he be as kind to her as he was to his otouto?

-0-

The first time the innocent girl properly addressed Itachi was three days later.

She was in the market with her mother, a wide grin on her face. Swinging a basket of fruit, humming to herself she skipped along merrily, a certain bounce to her step. In her twirling around, she bumped into the taller boy falling down and dropping her fruits in the process.

Since she was tiny, Itachi was unperturbed by the contact.

Promptly she got up and timidly apologised "Gomen, it won't happen again!" then turned to scamper off in search of her mother.

Before she could, however, Itachi grabbed her wrist. She spun around and stared at him completely terrified. Soon she realised that this was the boy's calm aniki whom she had admired so many months ago. She relaxed marginally.

"Your fruit," he gestured towards the colourful eatables on the ground.

She looked down. "Oh no!" she cried in horror, "My kaa-san will be so mad! I let her down! I promised I'd be c-careful," on the last word her voice began to shake.

To Itachi's immense discomfort, tears began to form in her jade eyes and her bottom lip trembled.

"Your fruit will be fine as long as you wash them once you get home," he stated in his usual monotone.

"R-really?" she questioned, a faint glimmer of hope in her eyes lighting up her whole face.

He nodded in response, kneeling down to commence picking up the fallen fruit.

Blinking, as her mind registered the situation, for a few seconds she just stared. Then a dazzling beam crept its way onto her features and she enthusiastically bobbed down to assist him.

In a few minutes all the fruits were back in the basket. "Arigatou…" she smiled shyly, her voice trailing off in question of his name.

"Itachi," he said stiffly.

"Arigatou, Itachi-kun!" she exclaimed, earnestness ringing in every syllable. Becoming conscious of the fact that she hadn't introduced herself, she continued "I'm Sakura! It was nice to meet you!"

Truly it was nice to meet him, much more than nice in fact. She then scuttled off, spotting her mother at a nearby stall.

That night Itachi went home feeling somewhat fulfilled. '_Sakura'_ he mused. It was a very fitting name, in his opinion. He liked her voice, entirely honest and sincere rather than silkily woven lies that he was so used to. It gratified him, to see a snapshot of her life, to actually be part of a scene, however small, of her life.

Sakura lay awake, happy. Itachi was just as warm as she thought he was.

The next day, she woke up and made a bento using some of the fruit she had bought that day. She grinned in memory of the extremely mature and kind older boy.

Her normal routine continued, taking those awful classes with Ino in the morning (that supposedly helped them become good kunoichi but Sakura didn't think so), getting bullied by Ami's group whenever Ino wasn't around then leaving as soon as the class was dismissed. Eating lunch with her beloved kaa-san then making her way to the tree that loomed over the training ground.

That day she felt a little more exuberant than usual. For once the boy was not a distraction, but rather she paying attention for the sake of itself. She actually observed the technique with which he threw his shuriken, mentally making notes to improve her method.

As dusk approached, she found herself reluctant to leave and almost forced herself to go on and depart. The bento was in its usual place.

When Itachi opened the bento he was pleasantly surprised to find she had used some of the fruit that she had from their encounter a day ago.

However, for some reason he felt uncomfortable consuming it as he usually did, knowing it was intended for his otouto. To ease a conscience that he thought had been beaten out of him years ago he hesitantly scrawled a note, understanding that she would probably stop making bento now.

In the morning, when the pink haired child went to fetch the empty box she didn't expect to see a note written in rather elegant joined handwriting. It read:

_Dear Sakura,_

_Thank you for your concern over my otouto. I am grateful that someone cares about his health. Unfortunately my otouto at times can be rather foolish and doesn't recognise your efforts; not because of any fault of yours, simply because he thinks the person is an annoying girl who follows him around everywhere. As it would be a pity to leave your hard work to waste, I have taken to eating the bento you make instead._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Itachi_

-0-

On the late afternoon of that day, the supposedly infallible Uchiha genius was proven wrong. He hadn't anticipated seeing another bento after the note he wrote.

He jumped off the branch to take a closer look. On the top of the box, in a messy scrawl, there was written _'For Itachi-kun'._

The corners of his mouth tilted upwards.

**A/N: It's our beloved Itachi's birthday today!**


End file.
